Remaining perfectly still, he continued kissing her, his hands caressing her sides, moving up to her breasts. He filled her completely and soon the pain dissipated overtaken by another sensation. A need for him to move. She pushed his face up from hers and looked into her eyes. "Shouldn't you be moving or something? I want you to move."
"I should have known you'd be a feisty and demanding one." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Aye, I should be movin'." He began to slide out and she let out a startled gasp at the sensations. When he pushed back in, both let out a moan.
Ian filled her completely before pulling out and then driving back deep. Soon she followed his motions lifting her hips higher, their movements steady until he began to lose control. She wasn't sure what to expect, but instinctively knew he was close to finishing by his harsh breaths and the intensity of his thrusts.
Unable to fight against the waves of ecstasy she gave into the wonderful sensations as her entire body splintered and Elsbeth thrashed until crying out.
Ian's hands dug into her hips as he plunged a few more times before jerking out and spilling onto the bedding, his large body shaking. Finally he collapsed over her, his mouth next to her ear. "I love you Elsbeth."
Soon after with his arms around her, his breathing became even as he fell into a slumber. Her head on his chest, Elsbeth listened to the rain outside, it had not relented. She hoped her mother assumed she'd stayed at the Gordon keep. She would make Ian promise to remain in the cottage, safe until she procured help. Surely Declan would ensure Ian's safety from the men who came to kill him. She'd go to her father and tell him she was marrying Ian. Yes, he would balk, but he knew her well enough to understand she'd never agree to marry the Seton's son.
Mind made up, she felt better and snuggled closer to Ian.
Chapter Five
"Have you lost your mind?" Declan strode past Ian once again to where he kept the whiskey, but he did not pour a glass. Instead he let out a loud breath and turned to stare at him. "You cannot return to Campbell lands. They will kill you."
"Just as they will kill any messenger we send."
"Not Struan."
After escorting Elsbeth to her lands making her promise to wait until he came to speak to her Da, he'd raced to his own home to speak with Declan. He didn't trust Elsbeth to remain quiet, but there was little he could do with the hired swords searching for him.
"Struan? Why him?" He pictured the young red-haired guard. "He is hardly battle ready."
"Struan is related to the Campbells. His sister married a Campbell."
"I doubt they will stop and ask him for references before taking him prisoner." Ian replied dryly. "However, it may work."
"He will be fine. We can send a message letting your brother know you will not seek lairdship."
Declan, his friend of over ten years, was the only person who knew his true identity. Now Elsbeth knew and her father no doubt suspected it as well. "There is something else."
The laird let out a breath and this time he did pour whiskey into two glasses. He handed Ian one. "Should we sit?"
Ian eyed the chairs. "No, drink."
Declan studied him for a few moments before drinking his whiskey. "Get on with it then." His friend's eyes narrowed. "Are you leaving?"
"No." Ian softened at his friend's apparent relief. "But I need to know if you will deed the cottage and surrounding lands to me. I plan to marry and will need something to call my own."
Declan was silent, his gaze never leaving Ian. "The land is yours, I've already told you. If you do indeed marry, I will add the land that runs along the loch." He let out a breath. "Who?"
"Elsbeth McNeil. We were together last night."
"Have you lost your mind?" Declan repeated and slammed his glass on the table so hard, it was a miracle it didn't shatter. "The McNeil will have your head on a spike. He will not allow his daughter to marry you."
"Since you've asked twice, I suppose I have lost my mind," Ian replied in a much lower tone. "I love her."
In love himself, Declan softened. "I know."
Ian was surprised to hear the words, but not that his friend had realized it before he had. "What can I do? I refuse to live without her. I know the land is not much to offer, but ‘tis better than nothing."
"You have much to offer Ian. You could be laird of the most powerful clan in the Highlands. As laird you would also be the wealthiest amongst your peers. Although I do not wish you to go, perhaps accepting lairdship would not only assure your marriage to Elsbeth, but you could bring the clan around to less violence."
He pictured keep Campbell, the immense structure atop a hill reigning over every valley surrounding it. The imposing home just as intimidating as every laird who'd ruled over the clan. As a child he'd dreamed of sitting in his father's place. Often the laird would repeat how he'd one day rule over the clan with an iron fist.
"I have been gone too long. Besides, my brother will ensure my arse barely warms the seat before my head rolls down the center of the great room."
"True," Declan replied and sunk into a chair. "Fine I will go with you to speak to the McNeil. Guard!" When a guard appeared in the doorway Declan nodded in acknowledgement. "Have Struan come to me and prepare two horses for Ian and myself. Six guards will accompany us to the McNeil keep in an hour."
Declan seemed to have a lot on his mind as they rode to the McNeil keep.
"What bothers you?" Ian asked.
Declan looked over his shoulder to ensure no one rode close enough to overhear. "The McNeil is quite ill."
"How bad?"
"Not expected to see winter."
"Does Elsbeth know?"
"They are keeping it from her, which is why he's been searching for a bridegroom for Elsbeth."
"Ah." His gut clenched and chest constricted. How would the McNeil react to his request of his daughter's hand?
Malcolm, an archer, came alongside them and motioned with his head. "We are being watched."
Shadows on horsemen formed behind the dense trees. Whoever they were had not planned their strategy well. Ian's party of eight knew the land and had a clearer path. Declan narrowed his eyes. "Did you make out a plaid?"
"Aye, Campbell," Malcolm replied and grunted. "Not sure what they’ll do, far from their own lands."
Ian looked behind to notice the six guardsmen had gone silent and scanned the woods for signs of more men. "Just ahead when we reach the clearing, we'll be exposed. We should divert and travel west a bit."
"Nay," Declan said. "I don't want to lead them closer to the village."
Ian let out a breath. "We don't know how many there are. Elsbeth said only six came to the keep." Although they were battle-hardened men, if the men who followed were large in number, going to the clearing was a mistake. "Then let's turn east."
"Very well." Declan nodded and they urged their mounts to a faster trot east into the forest.
An hour later, they'd diverted twice and still the Campbells followed gaining ground. Ian's party ascertained, they numbered at about ten and five. Thankfully just ahead they'd enter the McNeil's land and the scout would have rounded up enough guards to fend off the encroachers.
All of a sudden with a battle cry, the men broke out of the trees toward them.
Ian and his men turned their steeds to face them, swords held up at a ready. "Leave!" He screamed to Declan. It was his job to protect the laird and from the looks of it, if their guardsmen did not arrive in time, he would not be able to.
Metal clanged against metal as the enemy reached them. They'd lined up in a semi-circle and much to Ian's chagrin Declan remained, fighting alongside them. The first man to fall was a Campbell; any relief at the sight was a short-lived when a Gordon fighter fell next.
"There's too many of them," Malcolm told Ian. "Move away and take the laird with you."
"Nay!" Declan swept across a man's midsection with his sword, the hapless male fell to the ground, his arms around his spilling guts.
Ian could not a
fford to argue or break his concentration. He fought against two men at once.
"Stop!" A voice boomed from the darkness of the trees seconds before a lone horseman appeared. Ian took the opportunity to spear the man to his left.
The Campbell warriors stopped fighting, now surrounding them. The barrier of horse and warrior made it hard to move.
Declan looked to Ian. His other five men lined up three in front and two behind. "What is this?"
"I think he wants to have tea with us," Ian replied while searching for his fallen comrade. Although injured badly, the man was still alive, he moved just enough for Ian to notice.
"Declan Gordon?" The man who approached spoke with a heavy Highland accent proving along with the long dark blond hair and beard that he was all Highland warrior. "I come for Griogair Campbell. The laird Campbell requests his son return to take lairdship of our clan." There was coldness in the man's gaze as it swept over Ian. "Ye are Griogair Campbell, I recognize ye."
Declan held his sword at a ready. "What nonsense do you spew stranger? The McNeil's guards will arrive shortly, I suggest you and your men leave now."
The man did not look to be worried at Declan's threat. He scanned the men's faces, his gaze resting on Ian for a beat before moving past. "My orders are to return with the Campbell's son. I will not return empty handed."
"I know nothing of that person," Declan replied. "Ask your men to allow us to gather our injured man and pass."
Ian held up a hand, he inched closer. "Return to my brother Liam and tell him I will never return and will never seek lairdship. I do not want it. If he does not pay you for your trouble, I will. I renounce the name Campbell. I am Ian McRainey and forever will be named as such." Declan's guards all looked to him, some with mistrust, but most with curiosity.
Although there was doubt in the attacking leader's eyes, he nodded. "Very well. It will be noted that you renounce the name Campbell and henceforth will be considered enemy and traitor to the clan." He spat on the ground and his men did the same.
He then met Ian's gaze for a long moment. "We will not return." He motioned to his men, who moved away and waited for Malcolm and another guard to lift the injured man to a horse. Two by two Ian instructed the men to retreat, leaving him and Malcolm last.
Every once in a while he looked over his shoulder to the Campbells who remained lined up watching him. The blue and green colors proudly displayed over their shoulders now in silent reproach. He was a man without clan, without a tartan to call his own.
They rode in silence until almost to the McNeil keep. Declan came alongside Ian and lifted a brow. "For a man who is about to declare his undying love, you look as if facing the gallows instead."
"I have nothing much to offer someone like her." He battled to keep from turning his horse and galloping away. "Why should the McNeil accept me? A man without a clan, no title."
"You are a Gordon now," Declan said throwing him a tartan he must have procured from another man. "Wear our colors with pride my friend. You have much to offer. Your honor is worth more than a title."
A lump formed in his throat as he draped the white and blue fabric over his shoulder. He let out a sigh, not sure if it was relief or exhaustion. There was much to face still. Yet for Elsbeth, he'd face a fire-breathing dragon. For her, he'd release a last dying breath without regret.
Chapter Six
Elsbeth stood before her father, her chin lifted in defiance and her gaze pinned to his. She'd not back down on this. As much as she hated conflict with either of her parents, she stood her ground. "I will not marry Kiernan Seton Da. I am in love and prepared to leave if you do not accept Ian McRainey as my husband. Please do not give me that choice."
Her mother rushed in, her wide eyes going first to her father then to her. "What happens?"
The McNeil lifted an eyebrow; finally pulling his gaze from Elsbeth's to look at his wife. "It seems Elsbeth considers herself in love. The man in question is not here to face me. In his stead, my daughter defies me alone."
"He had to go renounce his lairdship of Clan Campbell, as there seems to be a price on his head." She prayed he arrived safely and returned unharmed. The thought that he could perish terrorized her.
"Ah," her father's short reply did nothing to tell what exactly he thought. The Setons visit was to be within days, her father had to send a messenger to keep them from wasting their time. "I am perplexed Elsbeth. Ian McRainey was just here days ago. Why did he not speak to me then? If he is a man of honor and sought your hand..."
"Things er... progressed. We only yesterday realized how deep our feelings ran." Her face burned as she recalled exactly how far things had indeed progressed. She prayed her parents did not suspect.
Her mother went to her father and placed her hand on his shoulder, a sure sign of her solidarity with him. If ever there was a time she felt alone, this was it.
"Sire, the Gordon and his first are here to speak to ye," a guard appeared at the doorway.
"Is that so?" Her father looked to his wife, a silent communication between them. "Show them in."
Why was Ian there? He was supposed to go north. Her heart tumbled in her chest. If they came about another matter all together, the situation was about to become worse.
Due to his station, Declan Gordon entered the room first. He greeted her parents before his two colored eyes met hers. There was warmth in them that settled her. Ian crossed the doorway behind him. Just as tall and commanding as the laird, he'd pulled his hair back with a leather strap and wore the Gordon Tartan over one shoulder. The fabric was cinched at his waist, his sword on his side. An air of assuredness surrounded him suiting him perfectly. He looked every bit a laird, someone purposed for commanding, ruling over the large clan of the north. Yet he'd given it all up.
Without looking directly at her, he came beside her, allowing Declan to stand before them, respecting the laird's position.
"Laird," Declan began. "I return prompted by my first, as he wishes to speak with you about a matter of great importance."
Her father looked past the Gordon and directly to Ian. Elsbeth's pulse quickened and she let out a breath. "Ian McRainey, if that is your true name. What cause brings you to speak to me?"
His hand brushed hers, the light touch of reassurance she needed. "I was born Griogair Ian Campbell, heir to lairdship of Clan Campbell. Ten years ago I left my clan to offer my sword to the Gordon. When Declan...er the Gordon came to Moriag, I then became his first." His voice was strong, not one word wavering, his stance proud as he faced her father who remained silent, his eyes moving from Ian to her on occasion.
Ian continued. "I just spoke to the Campbells and renounced my clan."
Elsbeth and her mother both gasped in unison at such daring.
"He is a Gordon now," Declan interjected. "He is landed, with coin worthy of any laird. I give you my word that he is a man of great honor."
Her father finally spoke. "Very well, everything you've said I would agree with. Yet how does this involve me and my family?"
"I am here to seek your daughter's hand in marriage. I vow to love, care for and protect Elsbeth. I would gladly die before ever allowing any hurt or pain to her."
An awkward silence fell over the room. Ian remained still. Elsbeth looked to her mother for a sign of what she thought. In return her mother's gaze was warm, filled with love and understanding. Lastly, she glanced to Ian who looked down to her, his expression determined.
"I had guards follow you yesterday," her father began and her eyes widened. "They were instructed to bring you back unless they found you to be safe."
"We knew where you were. It seems the only people in this room that didn't know you two were in love were...you two." He stood and her chest expanded with pride at her father's presence. His keen grey eyes narrowed at Ian. "I would have preferred you not to have touched my daughter until after the wedding, but since it was she that came to you..." He left the sentence unspoken.
Her father rounded the table he
sat behind and went to Ian. "I agree with Declan, your honor is worth more to me than a title. I have little doubt you are the man who can stand up to my willful daughter."
Elsbeth wanted to collapse in relief against Ian, but remained erect through sheer willpower. Her mother laughed and rushed to her. "I am happy for you dear. We are pleased to finally see you settled. That you are in love is a blessing."
"Marry with haste, if something came of your time...together, I prefer it to seem as if it happened after." Everyone laughed except for her and Ian. A coloring of Ian's cheeks was the only indication he gave that her father's words affected him.
The Gordon and her father both clapped Ian on the back and she rolled her eyes at the camaraderie, which left the females out of the equation. She tapped her foot and Ian turned to her. "Do you not think that perhaps some sort of acknowledgment to my presence by your person would be warranted?"
Ian closed the distance between them so quickly she lost her breath; he took her into his arms and kissed her soundly.
One Month later...
A gentle breeze blew through the window and across her bare skin. Elsbeth let out a moan and gripped the coverings harder in an effort to remain grounded. Ian's head was between her thighs, his hot mouth on her sex. He slid his hands under her bottom giving him more access to her as she fought against the impending climax, wanting to climb higher. She released a cry when he suckled and tumbled off the edge into a wonderful abyss.
In a daze, she felt the bed dip as he moved over her, immediately his mouth seeking hers while he maneuvered to enter her pliant body. "Now, I need you Ian, please."
He pushed in filling her completely. His soft sack lay against her skin, a sensation she never grew tired of and the contrast that was his body was something she enjoyed exploring every night. He pushed up extending his arms and peered down at her. "You are my heart Elsbeth. I will never stop wanting you nor loving you."
The Laird's Daughter, Moriag Series, Book 4 Page 4
